


Headaches Aren't Improved by Kidnapping

by Catbunblue302



Series: Whump for Bunnies [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Capture, Gen, Kidnapping, One Shot, Restraints, Sad Ending, Torture, Whump, Whumptober 2020, but its not graphically described, no comfort here y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catbunblue302/pseuds/Catbunblue302
Summary: Spy just wants the damn mail, ok? He didn't want the world's worst headache and some torture on top of that. Well, he got two of those things and neither one of 'em was the mail.(Now updated to have proper spacing between the paragraphs)
Series: Whump for Bunnies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949197
Kudos: 17
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Headaches Aren't Improved by Kidnapping

Spy leaned back against the leather headrest, a hand pressed firmly against his skull. He'd parked around back of the Tuefort corner store slash post office, habitually out of view of the road. Food and supplies were delivered every two weeks by the company but the mail came through Teufort and ever since The Bites Incident the town wasn't willing to deliver anything to either base. So every few days someone drove down to check the mail.

Spy didn't want to check the mail, Spy wanted to drive back to base, take an aspirin and lie down in his room with the curtains drawn. He begrudgingly opened the car door, the sooner he checked the mail, the sooner he could do just that.

There were three envelopes in the box, one for Scout, one for Heavy, and one for Engineer. He took them out to the car, where he kept a letter opener in the glovebox. Spy, being a shameless snoop, read his team's letters whenever he could get his hands on them. He figured it was only fair, they would most definitely read his mail… if they could find it.

With his keys in the door he felt a sharp sting on the back of his neck. He withdrew a dart with a needle sharp point on it, the end slick with his blood. He had just enough time to consider how much more painful that headache was going to be when he woke up before he fell to the pavement.

-

Spy opened his eyes, which didn’t help his situation much because it was pitch black. He had been right, his head hurt twice as much. And as a little bonus so did his shoulders. His wrists were cuffed above him, a chain keeping him suspended off the ground.

There was an empty socket in his mouth where his cyanide molar had evidently been plucked out of his head and his tongue kept going back to poke at the tender, bloody gum as he carefully composed a course of action. He would remain in his restraints until he had some idea who had captured him and why. Clearly they knew something about him as they’d removed that specific tooth and only that specific tooth. After he’d gathered enough information he would escape, and barring that kill himself to avoid giving away information under torture. He briefly considered the chance of a rescue by his team but summarily dismissed the possibility as minute at best.

After a time someone came into his cell and Spy was abruptly blinded by harsh, bright light. He squinted against the light, his retinas throbbing. Spy hadn’t known until right this moment that your retinas could throb.

There was the quiet click of shoes on cement and the sharper clinks of metal on metal. Spy slowly got to a point where he could open his eyes enough to see his captor.

She was of about average height, wearing a black t-shirt and slacks. Her hair was pinned up neatly and she was business-like in the way she organized her tools. She seemed to feel him staring and looked over her shoulder.

“Hello.” She said politely as if she wasn’t holding a thumbscrew.

Spy didn’t say anything, which was just as well because she continued.

“I’m Alto, I’ll be your torturer for the evening. If you’d like to say something before I start now would be the time.”

“Wouldn’t you rather spend the evening getting to know each other over dinner?” Spy purred.

Alto, which was most definitely a pseudonym, gave him a look. So flirting wasn’t going to work.

Alto withdrew a clipboard from her bag and leaned back against the table. “Alright let’s see what we got to work with… lot of interesting stuff in here… hmm… alright, yeah, I can work with this.”

She lowered the clipboard and looked up at him. “I need just a few things from you for now, your name, and the location of one Dell Conagher. Which one you wanna start with?”

Spy avoided the topic of his name and moved onto the Engineer. “I’m afraid I don’t know him.”

“Mmm, I’m afraid you do.” She pulled a photograph off the clipboard and held it up to him. “You might know him as the Engineer. It appears he seems to be completely absent from either base.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that.” What did they want with Engineer? He hadn’t been missing when Spy had left. And why not grab someone from his team who wasn’t trained to resist torture? Or better yet wait until Engineer himself went into town? It was a lot to think about it, and not something he could do while talking.

“Shame.” Alto scrutinized her tools for a moment and selected a decently sized knife.

“I have been tortured before.”

“Cool.”

“What I’m saying is, you’re wasting your time. I experience intense pain on a daily basis. You won’t get anything out of me.”

“Neat, I’m paid by the hour, the longer this takes the better for me.”

Alto was close enough now to touch him and she did, grabbing the edge of his mask at the throat. He couldn’t hide his reaction to it. She saw and drew her hand away.

“Alright, you can keep that for now. But we’ll come back to it.”

“How kind.”

“Hey, you know how to avoid this.”

She switched her attention to his torso, gently removing his tie and cutting away his suit and the shirt beneath.

“How dare you! Do you know how much this suit costs?” He squirmed against the cuffs, trying to get away from the knife.

“Hopefully more than your ugly car.”

Spy made a very indignant noise and then hissed as his shirt fell to the floor to join his jacket in shreds. Alto stared at his torso in the same way an artist would contemplate a blank canvas.

Spy stiffened, knowing the preamble was over and now the torture began. Just because he was used to pain didn’t mean he liked it and he knew just as well as any other Spy everyone had a breaking point.

Alto set to work on him, first beating him, light enough not to bleed but hard enough that his body would be a mess of black and blue the following day. Next she held flames against his skin, focusing on the soft tender areas of his throat, his belly, and his forearms. She finished the session by getting jumper cables and shooting electricity though his body. That he screamed through.

She let him hang there, panting and covered in fresh burns as she put her tools away. “I’ll let you have a bit to think about whether or not this is the path you really want to take. See you tomorrow.”

The door clicked shut, leaving him with only the dark for company.


End file.
